


Listen Through Silence

by BlueShell



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Blood, Fluff, Haikyuu!! Valentine Exchange, IwaOi Cameo, Kageyama Is Dramatic, M/M, Mentions of KuroDai - Freeform, Mentions of TsukkiHina, Trans Kageyama Tobio, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-22
Updated: 2018-02-22
Packaged: 2019-03-22 10:22:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13762098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueShell/pseuds/BlueShell
Summary: Five times Kageyama didn't ask, and one time he did.





	Listen Through Silence

**Author's Note:**

  * For [transtobio](https://archiveofourown.org/users/transtobio/gifts).



> Oh, thank God, it's finally finished!
> 
> This is my entry in the Haikyuu!! Valentine Exchange 2018 for Sky (@transtobio). Hello, and I am so sorry it took so long! It was really hard to write this one - you gave me a lot of good prompts, and my head kept switching from one to the other until it was already almost time to deliver, hehe. At last I chose one (the Roommates AU) and finished in time! I'm not sure of the quality of this work, but I'm never sure of the quality of anything I write, so I hope you still like it. I couldn't include everything you like, but I did try!
> 
> Some notes for readers at large:
> 
> Note 01: This fic features Trans Female-to-Male Kageyama Tobio. As I am a cis female, all the knowledge I have about the experience of trans people is second-hand. If I've written anything that offends you, or if you feel this piece is too unrealistic, as a trans person, please warn me so I can find the best way to fix it. 
> 
> Note 02: This fic also features Japanese apartments. They have some particular layout terms that I use here; for example, an apartment that's a 2LDK has two rooms, one living room, one dining room, and one kitchen area. Kageyama and Sugawara's apartment is a 1K, which means one room and one kitchen area (it's tiny!). Later in the story, a 1DK appears, which means one room, one dining room, one kitchen area. If there are any remaining doubts, please ask me! 
> 
> Note 03: The boys' apartment is in Hachioji, a city located inside the Tokyo Metropolis. Later, they have to go to Setagaya, which is about 37 kilometers from Hachioji. (Approximately 22 miles!)
> 
> Note 04: It's my personal headcanon that Kageyama can knit and sew and I won't take it back <3

**1.**

“TsukishimanIaremovingintogetherafterhighschool,” Hinata shouts, and goes _red,_ and hides his head underneath his arms. 

Everyone just looks confusedly at each other – Koushi’s ears are still ringing – until Tsukishima rolls his eyes with a pointed _tch._ “I asked Hinata to move in with me. After high school.” There is the faintest blush on his face. “He said yes.” 

It doesn’t come off as much of a surprise – not since the both of them started dating the year before – but the fact that they decided to just announce it at the restaurant during their celebration dinner throws all of them off for a second. 

That is, until Yamaguchi shrieks (“TSUKKI!”) and chaos ensues. 

“You guys are so grown up now!” yells Tanaka, who closed his shop early to watch their old team at the Prefecture finals; “I’m just – so – _Tsukki,”_ babbles Yamaguchi, arms around Tsukishima like a proud father; “B-b-but! Living alone! The rent! What if there’s a cockroach—,” Yachi despairs, shaking Hinata back and forth. It seems like every player has an opinion to give, and the table quakes as all of their voices clash with each other— 

—and then Koushi looks at Kageyama. 

Kageyama, who doesn’t look ready to tell Hinata he’s an idiot, or to scowl and glare at Tsukishima; just a little… bewildered, so to say. 

Like he’s just watched the train he wanted to catch pass him by. 

And it sticks with Koushi, during the evening. It’s on his mind even as the coach tells everyone to shut the hell up, and one of the first-years goes green at the mention of the national tournament and has to leave to puke; it’s on his mind when Daichi, Shimada-san and Takinoue-san get into a pretty heavy conversation about gasoline and taxes and the problems with keeping a car in current-day Japan that goes completely over his head. 

It sticks with him even as they say goodbye to one another, and Takeda-sensei tries to make sure everyone is getting home unharmed. “Kageyama, where are you going?” 

“My bike is broken, I’m taking the subway,” Kageyama says, his tone puzzled. 

“You shouldn’t go alone. Is anyone going in that direction, guys?” 

It sticks with Koushi. 

“I am,” Koushi raises his hand. “I’ll walk him to the station.” 

He feels more than sees Daichi’s confused glance, so he shrugs. Takeda-sensei shakes his hand in gratitude right before running to make sure Tsukishima Akiteru is going to drop all the first-years off on his way, and Kageyama watches the whole process with that same expression as before – like he can’t imagine exactly why someone would be worrying about him. 

In the end, they wave everyone goodbye as they start to walk, leaving Koushi with barely a moment to text Daichi ( _bbl gotta do something)_ before catching up with Kageyama; they still can hear Hinata’s voice in the distance as they go. 

For the first few moments, they stay quiet. 

“That was a really good match,” Koushi starts, trying to create a good atmosphere. Conversation with Kageyama is a carefully cultivated skill. “You made very good use of Tsukishima by the end.” 

“Wh—Ah!—eh—thanks.” His kouhai’s face goes red, and, even after all these years, he averts his eyes. “I – I knew Tiredshima could pull it off.” 

Yep. Not a first-year, but still adorable. 

The praise is not enough to make Kageyama’s thoughts happier, though; despite their victory and his brilliance, his expression goes from embarrassed to stormy as the silence stretches. 

How is he going to get there…? “Are you OK, Kageyama-kun?” 

“Huh?… Oh. I’m fine, I guess. …You?” 

“Just fine,” Koushi snorts. He tries to bring a soothing smile to his face. “I’m asking because you looked a little out of it during dinner.” At Kageyama’s visible confusion, he amends, “Like you were upset by something.” 

Koushi watches as realization washes over Kageyama’s face… only for his expression turn into indifferent, his tone forced. “I’m fine. Nothing happened.” 

He’s resolutely avoiding Koushi’s eyes, and maybe Koushi shouldn’t pry. Maybe he should let Kageyama solve his own problems. 

But he’s never been one to let sleeping dogs lie, has he? “Does it have anything to do with Hinata and Tsukishima moving in together?” 

Kageyama outright splutters; a few nonsensical syllables make its way out of his mouth, before he crosses his arms and directs a death glare at the sidewalk. “Why would anything those dumbasses do make me upset.” 

“Did Hinata tell you before? That he was moving in with Tsukishima?” 

“…No. First I’ve heard of it.” 

Jackpot. “…It’s tough to see our friends moving forward without us.” 

A myriad of expressions cross Kageyama’s face; frustration seems to win out in the end, as he rubs a hand through black hair. “It’s not – it’s not like I’m not moving either – but – he’s done so _much_ already.” Blue eyes turn to Koushi. “He’s always the one who’s right beside me – matching my pace – and I just thought we were – aaaarghh.” 

“You wanted to go to university together?” 

“Yeah!” Kageyama says, punching his own hand. “I have offers – I was thinking of going to Chuo – and I thought, maybe we could move in together, it’d be all right – but I’m so – I never thought of myself as – as living alone.” 

His kouhai starts rubbing his face, skin quickly going pink, and, honestly, Koushi cannot imagine him living alone either. In all their time together, everyone had gotten used to seeing Kageyama and Hinata as a unit, and it is a little bit startling to remember that their paths, like everyone else’s, might split apart. He thinks of Kageyama on his own in a Tokyo apartment, and, even in his head, things look a little lonely. Like he himself felt when Daichi moved out of their little 1K.  

…That little 1K that only he is living in right now. 

He might have an idea. 

“My apartment is kind of close to the station. It’s easy to get to Chuo from there.” 

Kageyama’s confused look returns. “…That’s… nice. I guess.” 

A little chuckle escapes Koushi’s lips. “I’m living alone too. Daichi moved out last month, went to live with Kuroo. That former captain from Nekoma.” 

“…I’m… sorry to hear about that?” The other boy says, unsure. “That… sucks.” His expression goes a little bitter. “I’m going to have to get used to that too.” 

Right. Of course. Kageyama doesn’t do subtle. 

“What about moving in with me? After high school?” 

His kouhai looks about as surprised as if Koushi had pulled a whole volleyball court out of his pocket. “Wha—I mean—what—why?” 

It’s way too adorable. Koushi laughs. “I’m living alone too? I guess I could use some company. And it’s close enough to Chuo. If you don’t think it’s weird.” 

“Of course not. I don’t think it’s weird.” In fact, Kageyama’s face is opening up, a whole new world in front of his eyes. “Are you sure? I – everyone says – things can be tough sometimes. When it comes to me.” 

Kageyama can be stubborn as a mule about some things, prickly and particular about others; it’s something that’s been getting better over the years, but no Karasuno player would be caught saying he is an easy person to get along with. 

Knowing this makes that almost apology hurt something inside. 

“I’m sure. Do you want to?” 

Koushi extends his hand – and feels himself going warm when Kageyama takes it, hesitant smile and cheeks blushing pink.

* * *

**2.**

When Daichi finally manages to get everyone to leave – “ _No,_ we’re _not_ going clubbing, _stamina monsters_ ” – Koushi is sort of draped over one of hi— _their_ miniscule dining table, feeling his leg muscles numb. It’s better than Kageyama, at least, who competed with Hinata to see who could carry more boxes upstairs, and is now lying face down on the floor, looking like he regrets his entire existence. 

“Kageyama,” Koushi calls softly. The mass of black hair twitches. “Why don’t you go take a shower while I set things up?” 

His new roommate raises his head a little, one blue eye looking at him from amidst the black. “Don’t you wanna go first? It’s – your shower. I guess.” 

“It’s _our_ shower,” Koushi corrects. “’Sides, you look more tired than I do. Go on,” he insists, when Kageyama doesn’t budge. “Next time I’ll take the shower first.” 

It takes a few more moments of cajoling before Kageyama agrees to go; Koushi uses the time he’s in the shower to push the furniture away, rolling out their futons. When Kageyama leaves the bathroom, smelling faintly of charcoal soap and deodorant, he’s managed to find the sheets and blankets Hinata gave them as a housewarming gift. Koushi knows he did a good job because of the stunned look in the other boy’s eyes. 

“Su—Sugawara-san. You didn’t have to.” His tone is heavy. 

“I wanted to,” Koushi says easily. He’s not lying; it makes him feel happy to see Kageyama and know he’s fine, when he never asks for anything and takes their gestures of friendship as something much bigger than they are. He feels right – taking care of him. “Don’t need to wait up for me, OK? I’m going to take a long showe—not that way!” he adds hurriedly when he hears the innuendo. 

Kageyama just raises a puzzled eyebrow; Koushi has never been more thankful for his difficulty with metaphors. He waves his hands agitatedly, and hurries to the bathroom before his mouth starts giving up how much he’s been exposed to Tanaka and Noya. 

He takes his time scrubbing out the sweat and combing the knots out of his hair; he likes his shower water hot, and a cloud of steam leaves to the main room when he opens the door. 

Kageyama looks sleepy, but he’s still awake, sitting on his futon surrounded by blankets. He has a cup of warm milk, and… and there’s another by Koushi’s pillow. 

“Thank you!,” he says, barely keeping the surprise out of his voice. 

Kageyama just nods, cheeks red. “It’s good for sleeping.” 

He blows on his cup slightly before taking a sip, and the sight makes something leap inside of Koushi’s chest; he must have been more exhausted than he thought, if just seeing something cute – admittedly, something _very_ cute – is affecting him like that. 

Maybe he really needs a good night of sleep. 

They drink in silence, and leave their cups in the sink when they’re finished; Koushi will wash it in the morning while he’s making breakfast. Kageyama turns off the light while Koushi burrows under the blankets. 

After they’ve settled in, their goodnights are quiet. 

Koushi is unsure of how much time passes. He’s tired, but his mind is still going; he knows the cars are still going outside – got used to those sounds, thinks of them as a lullaby – and can see the streetlights shift through the curtains. He runs through conversations, plans for tomorrow, volleyball strategies, until he realizes what he’s waiting for: he can hear Kageyama’s every breath, slowing and quickening without ever evening. 

“…Trouble sleeping?” he asks in a low voice. 

Kageyama startles, but, even in the dark, his eyes look too aware. 

“It’s kinda scary, isn’t it?” Koushi asks, hoping he’s guessed right. “Daichi and I wound up spending the whole night awake when we moved in, we were so nervous about living in Tokyo. And so many _cars._ ” 

It takes a moment, but Kageyama nods, looking at the ceiling. “The cars don’t bother me that much, but – I’m not used to – it’s _different._ ” He pauses, then says, “But it’s for volleyball,” like that settles the whole thing. 

And it does, Koushi thinks. If there’s one thing Kageyama’s always had, it’s that bullheaded determination – e.g. “the binding incident of 2014”, “the torn nail incident of 2015” and _this,_ leaving Miyagi in the blink of an eye because aiming higher is the only path he knows. 

If anyone can beat insomnia by willing themselves to sleep, that person would be Kageyama; as it is, though, Koushi wants to help.

“But it isn’t that different, is it?” he postulates. “Sure it’s a new city… but you’ve slept in futons before. You slept with _me_ before. In the same room, I mean.” 

Kageyama turns his head to him like he’s heard something interesting. 

“You even heard me screaming every time Noya opened up the blinds,” Koushi reminds him. “So – maybe if you think of it like training camp? Remember that I’m here?” And he does something he’s not used to, something that might be just a little too daring. 

He extends his hand across the space between their futons. 

He sees Kageyama’s eyes widen and almost retreats – too much, too much, he needs to remember not everyone likes contact as much as he does –, but one of those bony, long hands takes his. 

Holds his. 

Koushi is unsure of how much time passes; he only listens to Kageyama’s breath evening and lets the sound lull him to sleep.

* * *

**3.**  

Living with Kageyama is easier than Koushi thought it would be. 

In less than a week, he learns that Kageyama hates to waste time looking for what he needs, which he avoids by choosing a set place to put everything. Once he figures that out, Koushi stops trying to organize his roommate's things, just leaving it on a corner of the table for Kageyama to sort out later. He understands Kageyama appreciates the gesture by the avid way he watches Koushi clean the first times, trying to reproduce something that, to the older brother of a family of four, comes as easy as breathing. 

Between Koushi's part-timing in the grocery store and Kageyama's exhausting schedule of volleyball practice and classes, they only see each other at evening, when they're too busy studying to do a lot of stuff together. Kageyama sits and watches matches in his computer, but he keeps asking if he’s bothering Koushi with the noise. When they both realize that Koushi is more of a night owl than Kageyama is, reading technical books until the late hours of the night, Kageyama is the one that brings a sleep mask for the times he really needs to sleep. 

He can't cook worth for shit, and his constant attempts at doing so frustrate him immensely; when he eats what food Koushi managed to salvage, is always with a sulk and rebellious muttering under his breath. He also gets very frustrated with his teammates sometimes, and complains about the “dumbass wing spiker” who won't listen to his advice, or the “lazy middle blocker” who keeps giving up on balls that aren't lost. Still, he seems to have a good coping situation going — he goes out with Hinata on Sundays, tells him everything that's going on, and, at home, he uses his free time to knit gloves and socks with neutral colored wool. He looks so at peace with knitting needles in his hand that it's hard to imagine he is also the same guy who used to call Hinata and Tsukishima idiots with every other breath. 

And that is probably why Koushi almost jumps out of his skin when he’s woken up one morning by a loud “ _FUCK!_ ” 

“Wha—wha—what happened,” his mouth says with little input from his brain, as he rolls out of bed with one hand raised to face… 

…a miserably small Kageyama, arms ensnared around his middle. 

“Sugawara-san,” he says, and Koushi hasn’t seen him this close to crying since they lost to Inarizaki in Nationals the year before. “I – sorry – I didn't wanna wake you up. Sorry, go back to sleep.” 

It's the moment Koushi sees the huge red stain in his roommate’s pajama pants. 

It brings all kinds of memories — most of them from Akane-chan, watching TV inside a bundle of blankets and pillows, a hot water bottle held securely against her lower belly; how he always knew to make her tea and ask no questions when he saw her like this. 

“I'm gonna — I'm gonna clean up,” Kageyama says, making a gesture towards the bedding, and, oh, damn it. “You don't — you don't have classes this morning, right — you can — and I'll—” 

“You go take a shower,” Koushi says resolutely. 

Kageyama’s eyes widen. “I have to—”

“My mom taught me a great trick to get blood out of fabric,” which is a lie, but he'll leave no Google stone unturned if it means his roommate will stop looking like this. 

“Are you sure—” 

“Yeah,” he says, getting up. They don't have any bottles for hot water, but Koushi is sure he still has some ibuprofen left. “I promise I know my stuff,” he says, and makes sure to keep a smile on his face. 

It seems to calm Kageyama down a little, because he shuffles to the shower with little protest. Once the door is closed, Kageyama’s pajamas safe in his hands, Koushi jumps to his smartphone. 

In the end, only the topmost sheet is stained, thank God. Koushi finds out that one good way to get blood out of things is to make a paste out of water and aspirin, but first he has to rinse the cloths in cold water – which is how he finds himself scrubbing the sheets over their sink, while heating up some milk. 

Kageyama leaves the shower right as he's making the paste, and Koushi hands him the hot milk — with three spoons of sugar, the way he likes it best — and the ibuprofen. His kouhai is so out of it that he doesn’t question anything, just swallows the medicine down in one big gulp. 

Koushi spreads the paste over the stain, makes sure to rinse the sink well, and actually has to make an effort not to startle when he turns and realizes Kageyama is still there, looking at him. 

He breathes in. Kageyama doesn't need him to be dramatic. “You don't have classes this morning, do you?” 

“...Just morning practice.” 

“Can you skip it?” 

He knows Kageyama is back to his self when he looks revolted at the very notion. “I don't have to.” 

“But can you, though?” Koushi presses. “I think it would do you some good to rest a little bit. And you can still make it to afternoon practice.” 

Teeth press into the bottom lip. “I promised I'd never let it be a problem. I'm not gonna let it be a problem.” 

Koushi has to fight down a smile — that is Kageyama through and through. 

“If you're so sure… but please come back home at lunch? We’ll watch something on Netflix, and you can rest a while?” 

Reluctantly, Kageyama nods. 

Koushi discovers that afternoon that his roommate’s idea of Netflix is watching animal documentaries, and they spend long hours learning curiosities about the day-to-day of dolphins. He also finds out that water and aspirin work very nicely on bloodstains. 

More alarmingly, he also finds out that, even pale and tired among a bundle of blankets and pillows, Kageyama is still really beautiful.

* * *

**4.**

This thought – that Kageyama is beautiful – is not an impression that fades afterwards, like most of Koushi’s opinions on boys and girls; instead, it’s a thought that keeps coming up at the most inappropriate of times. 

They speak, and suddenly Koushi’s eyes stray to Kageyama’s mouth; all of a sudden, he forgets what he was supposed to be answering to… or, he goes to watch Kageyama in matches, and is so fixated on his form that he only realizes he has to be cheering when Hinata starts yelling. He turns around when he can’t sleep to see the shape of Kageyama in the futon, and can never stop being amazed at the fierceness of the heat that overtakes him. 

This is not – this is not what he wanted at all. He wanted company, all right, but he also wanted Kageyama to have a safe environment, a place to open his wings without having to worry about being lonely or vulnerable. This – Kageyama doesn’t have anything to do with these feelings, doesn’t _need_ to have anything to do with them. 

He needs to distract himself. 

Thankfully, university comes with a lot of opportunities to do so, and Koushi throws himself into projects and plans like never before. He spends even less time in his apartment, down at the volleyball court practicing, runs around the neighborhood to build stamina. He investigates possibilities of post-graduation, starts trying to write essays, spends a lot of time awake with his headphones on buzzing rock music. 

It’s exhausting – but it’s fine; he can deal with exhausting. He’s been there before. He can deal with insomnia and restlessness and almost sleeping through classes and training. 

Or, at least, he thought so, until Kageyama touched his shoulder in a particular evening. 

“Hey,” Koushi acknowledges, taking his headphones off. “What’s up?” 

They have been working on communicating better with each other – though Koushi has to admit that his personal marathon didn’t do that any favors –, and, by now, he can recognize Kageyama’s face when he’s holding something back; his eyes are big and blue and very wide. 

“Sugawara-san,” he says stiltedly, “I think we should go out tonight.” 

Koushi pauses – checking briefly to see whether the apartment’s on fire. “…Why?” 

Kageyama presses his lips together like that was the question he was afraid of. “I really think we should go out tonight. Really. Would be a wonderful idea.” 

It’s suspicious – very, very suspicious – but there isn’t a single bone in Koushi’s body that can say no to Kageyama, not when he looks at him all open and expectant. “…All right, then.” 

The brief expression of triumph – soon covered by what was probably the world’s worst attempt at a poker face – is probably going to be worth whatever grief this night might bring. 

The wind is chilly outside, so both of them go out in coats and scarves; Koushi watches from the corner of his eye as Kageyama leads the way with a surety that tells him this escapade has a well-set destination. They sprint some five blocks south, and Kageyama catches his hand when they have to dodge the crowd; luckily he is too busy trying to get wherever they are going to notice the warmth that comes up to Koushi’s cheeks. 

“Here! Here is a good place.” 

The “good place” turns out to be a cozy izakaya Koushi hasn’t been to since forever… or, actually, since the last time he and Daichi hung out. 

Huh. 

“Is it – is it OK with you?” Kageyama asks nervously. 

Koushi can’t help but laugh. He’s getting more suspicious by the second. “Why wouldn’t it be OK? C’mon, let’s go.” 

The interior of the izakaya is small but well-lit, and there is just the right amount of people for the large party at the back to stand out like a sore thumb – if a sore thumb consisted of a lot of hairstyles that are extremely familiar. 

“Why,” Kuroo says loudly, over Daichi’s shoulder, “isn’t that a coincidence?” 

“It’s not!” Hinata yells. 

From a quick look over, Koushi can see him along with Tsukishima and Yamaguchi, plus Nishinoya and Kinoshita – and he is pulled to a seat before he manages to say hello to everyone, exchanging hugs and punches and one noogie before he is safely placed between Daichi and Kiyoko. As they sit together, Koushi can already feel the last few weeks fading away like a nightmare; to be there, with his friends, is all he needs to get the fire pumping in his veins, the insomnia fading from his eyes. 

Kageyama spends the entire evening between Tsukishima and Yamaguchi, a strangely proud expression on his face. 

“He was the one who suggested this,” Daichi says later, when everyone is already a little bit drunk and Kinoshita is trying to hold Nishinoya from jumping on the table. “All his idea, I just suggested a place.” 

“Oh, yeah?” And there it goes again, that fierce warmth of affection. “What did he say?” 

“That you’ve been working too much? And that you needed to do something else. You really should slow down if even Kageyama thinks you’re overworking,” Daichi comments, and he’s got his eyebrows drawn in captain-mode. 

Koushi wants to tell him not to worry – wants to tell him how Kageyama is a lot better at looking out for him than he’d given him credit for – but that would be denying the fact that he’s in a lot of trouble for now. 

 _Yep,_ he decides, watching Kageyama fight with Tsukishima and feeling his heart skipping in his chest. _A lot of trouble._

* * *

**5.**

Things come to a head like this: 

It’s a cozy evening, with a lot of rain outside. It’s the kind of weather people wait through indoors, listening to the droplets pelt the windows and being thankful the cold hasn’t seeped inside the apartment. 

It’s also Koushi’s day off, for a change, and he took Daichi’s advice to heart; he finished what projects he could and gave himself some free time. …Which he is choosing to spend with Kageyama, but in a fairly noncommittal way – just homemade dinner (mapo tofu, his favorite) and a movie that, apparently, someone called Koganegawa has been raving about.  

A simple arrangement: they lay on the futons because watching movies lying down under the blankets is nice when you can’t turn up the heater too much. Koushi is an adult. He can deal with sitting by the side of the boy he’s got a crush on without having a meltdown. He can. 

At least, until he feels Kageyama’s hand close to his. 

Whoever Koganegawa is, he doesn’t have much of an idea of what sort of stuff Kageyama likes. The couple in the movie get a few laughs out of him, but they have the sort of antagonistic behavior that, in Koushi’s experience, just confuses Kageyama and turns him off from romantic comedies as a whole. In fact, even Koushi finds his attention wandering from the screen – but that’s probably because he’s watching for the telltale crease between his roommate’s eyebrows. 

Which is there, all right – mixed with such an intense expression Koushi swears he’s going to try to perforate the TV with his eyes at some point in the evening. 

And the hand. 

The hand is reaching across the space between the two futons, with the hesitance of a scared rabbit; they go under the blankets and they touch his fingers. 

And they startle. 

And they stay. 

And Koushi doesn’t understand – can’t see what’s happening beside the obvious explanation, but the obvious can’t be happening because that’s not the way Kageyama works. 

But the movement, the brush of skin against skin. 

“Kageyama…” 

The jump, the scrape of nails against the back of his hand. 

“Su—Sugawara-san.” 

The intense expression is turned to him, and Koushi realizes Kageyama hasn’t been paying attention to the movie – probably has no idea what’s even happening. Probably has been thinking the whole evening about this. Anxiety pools inside Koushi’s stomach all the way to his toes, the smell of ozone before the storm. 

What’s happening, he means to ask. 

He’s stopped by the press of lips to his. 

There’s a moment of pause, like the whole universe stopped to watch. Then the lips move – they brush just barely, trying out, reaching. A first kiss. 

Why is Kageyama doing this? Did he – did he notice that Koushi is attracted to him? God help him, did anyone _tell_ him about Koushi’s crush? Because Koushi didn’t tell anyone, that’s for sure, but he thought Tsukishima had a devious look on his eyes that day at the izakaya. Is he trying to pacify Koushi, to give him something in return? 

“…Sugawara-san?” 

Does he like Koushi _back?_

Koushi takes a look at Kageyama’s wide eyes, his quivering lip – and he didn’t move, he didn’t reciprocate. He needs—he needs—“Kageyama…” 

“Oh my God.” 

“Kageyama, what—” 

“Oh my _God._ I’m so _sorry._ ” 

“Wait—” 

But Kageyama’s never waited for anything and he doesn’t start now – he jumps out of the bed, throws a coat over his sleepwear. He’s muttering “I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry” as he puts on tennis shoes already tied and he doesn’t stop to look at Koushi, doesn’t stop to listen— 

“Kageyama, wait! Calm down!” 

And he’s in the hallway already – and it’s Koushi’s turn to throw on a coat haphazardly, shove his feet inside slippers and run after him, try to explain because oh my God how can this be happening. 

The choice of slippers works against Koushi in the end, because he can’t climb down the stairs with the same abandon Kageyama does; when he reaches the first floor, Kageyama’s already on the street, and when he reaches the building door, he’s disappearing around a corner in the pouring rain.

* * *

**+1.**  

Koushi calls, once, twice, three, four, five, six times. He pauses, waits another minutes, calls eight more times. Writes a text: _I’m not mad at you. We need to talk._

 _Please come home._  

He calls Hinata, and Tsukishima; and then Noya, Kiyoko, Daichi and Kuroo, Yamaguchi. He hears nothing but negatives, deflects questions with fake spontaneity, makes them all promise to call if they see even a glimpse of Kageyama. Paces in the living room, phone held tightly in hand, jumping every now and then with the phantom vibrations only he can feel. 

He puts on a raincoat, wraps a change of Kageyama’s clothes in a plastic bag, and goes to the street, braving through the downpour. He checks all places close by, and then all the places that aren’t so close; he thinks of every place he knows Kageyama likes – the 24-hour net café he likes to study in, the izakaya, the sports department store he likes to go downtown. He wonders whether Kageyama’s subway pass was inside the coat he chose, whether he just walked in the rain, how far he could have gone – Kageyama is a stamina monster, could he have walked all the way outside the city or— 

He wonders whether Kageyama is too cold, whether he found some place to dry himself, and— 

He wonders what he should have done, how he should have behaved. How he should have said yes, yes, how he should have reciprocated and worried later. How he should have stopped thinking of Kageyama in terms of his naïveté and inexperience – how he should have considered that Kageyama is also someone with desires of his own, no matter what moral conundrums came from thinking like that. 

He calls five more times, then eight more times, and when the phone finishes ringing the tears are already sliding down his face. 

The ticking of clock Kiyoko gave him as a housewarming gift seems like a drill, each tick making holes in his bones. He lies down on his futon, fully-clothed, phone hugged to his chest; he listens to the silence and decides he might as well try to get some rest. 

Sleep is fitful; he jumps awake at any noise, frightened and confused by the absence of Kageyama in the other bed, and the dread that fills him when he remembers hurts a lot – almost more than the few dreams he have, fantasy conversations with his roommate where he manages to stop him before he gets through the door. 

The first rays of dawn are already showing up on the horizon when the message arrives. 

It’s Kageyama’s number, but Koushi doesn’t think he’s the one who sent this; there’s an address, all the way over in _Setagaya,_ holy shit, and a very short message underneath it: _Tobio’s here. Come pick him up._

Well, it’s not like he needs any more encouragement. 

The trains have already started running when he leaves, wrapped in a large winter coat with Kageyama’s change of clothes stuffed in a package in his inner breast pocket. It’s still too early for the crowd of worker bees – the only people outside are the early risers and late arrivals, all sporting sleepy expressions like his as the wind cuts their faces. It makes Koushi feel like he’s entering some sort of fantasy world, where everything looks dull, distorted and twisted; it awakes a deep-set longing inside his chest. 

By train, Setagaya is more than an hour and a half away. Koushi spends most of the trip looking at his phone, waiting for another text – but the only message comes from Daichi, asking whether Kageyama’s been found. Koushi tries his best to assuage his old friend, but he guesses he’s going to have some things to explain the next time they meet each other. 

It’s fine. He can explain everything, as long as Kageyama comes back home. 

The sun’s already up when he trades lines in Shimo-takaido. He follows the route Google says is the best, and climbs down in Shoin-jinja-mae; from there he takes a cab to the address in question, a small apartment building – 1DK, and isn’t that luxurious –, close to Nittaidai. He’s not sure what to say when he comes to the doorman, except that they’re waiting for him on 303, and he’s not sure of what to expect when the man says he’s clear to go. 

There isn’t a name plate on 303, and Koushi is left hesitating by the door, wondering who’s going to come and open it. He doesn’t know anyone who lives in Setagaya, and he didn’t think Kageyama did either. Who was this person Kageyama had felt he could turn to, to spend a whole night away from home? 

A hundred different names cross Koushi’s mind… 

“Good morning, Refreshing-kun.” 

…but the sight of Oikawa Tooru by the door still manages to shock him out of words.

“Oikawa, who’s there?” Someone asks inside the apartment, and the slightly guilty expression in Oikawa’s face makes Koushi even more intrigued – especially as he is invited inside with impatient hand gestures, and the other setter hurries to close the door after he’s in. 

The door to the hallway opens on the kitchen, all decorated in nice tones of white and blue, and he’s about to say something (probably “my name is Sugawara”, because Oikawa apparently doesn’t remember) when Seijou’s former ace, Iwaizumi, comes in from the living room, and – and _glares_ at him?

Koushi realizes he’s been caught _in medias res_ when Iwaizumi’s glare passes him by and fixates on Oikawa. When he speaks, it’s in a low tone, “What – how did you even have his number?” 

Oikawa’s face becomes stony. “I took Tobio-chan’s phone.” 

“Wha— _Oikawa._ ” 

“Iwa-chan, he can’t stay here hiding _forever_.” 

“Well, maybe we should have let _him_ decide who he was going to call.” He turns to Koushi with hostile eyes. “He doesn’t want to see you right now.” 

Koushi thinks about it – about Kageyama, wearing only a coat over his sleepwear, drenched to the bone and asking for a place to stay – and, of course, this hostility makes sense. 

He wonders whether Iwaizumi is like Daichi to Aobajousai – if he’s the guy who checks to see if everyone’s well-fed and happy – and to think that Kageyama has someone like that looking out for him makes his heart warm. “I know he doesn’t, but it was all a misunderstanding, I swear.” He tries to show his intentions on his face, tries to look as earnest as he can. “I need to set things straight with him.” 

Iwaizumi is still frowning, but Oikawa steps in. “Iwa-chan, you know how these things are. The longer they spend without talking to each other, the harder it’ll be for them to fix things – and you heard Kageyama, it’s nothing worth ending a friendship over.” There is something in his voice when he says friendship, and the sideways look he throws Koushi tells him that Oikawa almost certainly has some inkling of what happened last night. “He can only postpone this for so long.” 

A conflicted look brushes Iwaizumi’s expression, before it settles into something resigned. He steps aside, motioning to the hallway. “He’s over there in my room.” 

Oh. So it’s not Oikawa’s apartment. 

(He probably shouldn’t be feeling so relieved at that.) 

Koushi makes its way through a very messy living room – there’s a futon stretched on the floor, sheets thrown over a couch, and apparently the two of them were eating breakfast on the floor – to a closed door. His stomach turns a little at the picture. 

Iwaizumi is the one who knocks first. “Kageyama, there’s someone here for you.” 

Kageyama is not stupid. He doesn’t open the door. “Who’s there?” 

Well. Now is the time. “It’s – it’s me, Kageyama.” 

Silence. 

He summons his courage – gets closer to the door. “Please, Kageyama, open up? We need to talk.” 

More silence.

He’s about to try again when Oikawa’s annoyed sigh makes itself heard; the other setter brushes past Koushi and gives three strong knocks to it. “Tobio, _open up already_.” 

 _That_ merits an answer: “Go away!” 

Another long sigh, another strong knock. “Tobio, you know why I hated you so much in middle school?” 

There is a pause; then a very low “…why?” comes out. 

“Because you never knew when to be _afraid_ of stuff,” Oikawa says. “You just went and did things like it was no big deal, like you didn’t even know you were supposed to be scared. Like it all came so _naturally_ to you.” His voice becomes lower. “I wanted so much to be like you back then.” 

Koushi turns his head to Iwaizumi, who has a very soft expression on his face all of a sudden; the former ace shakes his head slowly, as if telling him not to interrupt the moment. 

And Oikawa continues, “So believe me when I say, I don’t like seeing you like this, cowering in a room because of a mistake you supposedly made. You have to be my worthy rival, or else things just don’t make sense.” 

A snort of embarrassed laughter comes from inside the room; it’s matched by an equally sheepish grin in the other setter’s face. 

“So open up already,” Oikawa says with finality, “and stop making your senpai look bad.” 

There is silence again, and for a moment Koushi thinks Oikawa’s appeal didn’t work – but then he hears the slow steps to the door, the creak of the hinges opening. 

Kageyama looks as awful as Koushi feels; there are bags under his eyes, and his hair looks frumpy. He forgot his binder at home, so Koushi can see the subtle line of his chest – inside alien-patterned pajamas bigger than he is, the ends of his sleeves hanging loosely off his arms. 

Koushi’s never seen a more beautiful sight before. 

“Oikawa and I are going to have breakfast,” Iwaizumi says very suddenly. “You two can use my room and talk.” 

“Iwaizumi-san,” Kageyama starts, “you don’t need to—” 

“Oh, don’t worry, Iwa-chan’s going to treat me to a romantic breakfast,” Oikawa says quickly and, _oh._ “You two use the room, throw the key under the door when you leave.” 

And, before they can say anything else, Oikawa pushes them both into the room – and closes the door with a loud click. The fact that the both of them have already had breakfast does not escape Koushi’s mind. 

He suspects he owes a lot to Oikawa and Iwaizumi this morning. 

He turns to bed, where Kageyama is sitting, eyes on the floor. Slowly – he doesn’t want to startle his roommate, make him leave as abruptly as he had the night before – Koushi goes to sit by his side; he wants to sit close, feel the heat of that body, but chooses to keep a respectable distance. 

“Sugawara-san,” Kageyama starts. He’s still not looking at him. “…Thank you for coming all the way over here.” 

“It’s nothing,” Koushi says truthfully. “I was very worried about you, last night on the rain.” 

“…Sorry.” 

He didn’t say it to have Kageyama apologize, but the first apology seems to trigger something; Kageyama leans forward and holds his head with his hands, like talking to Koushi is something he can’t stand. 

“Kageyama—” 

“I’m so sorry. So sorry.” 

“Listen—” 

“I never thought – I thought you were – I’m so sorry. I’m never going to do it again, I promise.” 

“Kageyama—” 

“If you’ll just give me some time, I’ll move out—” 

“ _Kageyama._ ” And Koushi holds Kageyama’s hand – and, for the first time, those blue eyes look up, face his. “I’m not mad. I don’t want you to move out.” 

Kageyama’s voice is still hesitant. “…Are you sure?” 

“Of course I’m sure. You have nothing to be sorry for.” And Koushi looks for words he’s not even sure he has. “Can I ask you a question?” 

Kageyama nods, and it’s a little disconcerting; now that he has the other boy’s attention, he’s not sure of what to ask first. 

“…Why did you kiss me?” 

Kageyama’s face turns red like a strawberry, but, slowly, the truth comes out. “Because I like you. _Really_ like you.” 

“And since when do you… _really_ like me?” 

“I’ve had a crush on you since first year, but I only figured it out second year after you were gone,” Kageyama rattles off matter-of-factly. “Things’ve been getting worse since we started living together, though. …Sorry.” 

“I told you, you have nothing to be sorry for.” Since first year. All this time. “And why… why did you decide that yesterday was the time to kiss me?” 

Kageyama’s face settles into a murderous frown. “That _jackass_ Tsukishima – he _told me_ you – that _you_ liked me back.” A self-conscious laugh, eyes turning back to the floor. “And Hinata kept saying Tsukishima was always right about these things. It got to me. I’m such an idiot. I thought – if I chose a day when we were both at home – and – I don’t know – a romantic movie – _God,_ I’m such an idiot.” 

Koushi feels the burn of anticipation inside his stomach. 

“What if I told you that Tsukishima was right?” 

Kageyama turns to him in a rush. His mouth is open, and his eyes are shining. “Wha—what did you say?” 

“I said,” and Koushi pauses, takes a deep breath, “I said, what if I told you Tsukishima was right.” And he remembers Kageyama doesn’t do subtle, and adds: “Because he is, you know. I like you back.” 

Kageyama’s mouth is still open; it’s a surprisingly endearing look on him. (And Koushi should have realized it sooner, shouldn’t he? That to him, everything that Kageyama does is endearing.) 

It takes a moment, but Kageyama speaks: “If – if you told me Tsukishima is right – then why didn’t you—” 

“—kiss you back? I – you took me by surprise. For a moment, I thought you were only doing it – to be nice to me.” Looking back now, it seems a pretty pathetic thing to think, and Koushi feels his face run hot with the idea. 

Kageyama breaks that tension by shaking his head repeatedly, with enthusiasm. “No, no, no, I wasn’t – I really like you, Sugawara-san!” And his face shifts; his cheeks go even redder. “Why – why did you think—?” 

Koushi figures he owes Kageyama all the answers he want. “I thought… I’ve been… _really_ liking you for some time now. And I didn’t even consider you might like me back. When you kissed me, I thought – I was worried that you were just doing it to – placate me.” And, at the other boy’s puzzled expression, “I was worried you felt like you – had to be nice to me ‘cause I’m your roommate.” 

It appears that, at some point in the last four years, Kageyama also suffered from overexposure to a certain dynamic duo in Karasuno; the expression of angry disbelief in his face is one-hundred percent Tanaka Ryuunosuke. He looks at Koushi, mouth sputtering sounds that can barely be considered words, and – grabs his hand. Holds it tight, and looks at him with eyes that border on desperation. 

“I understand,” Koushi said, trying his best to put a soothing smile on his face, brushing the tension off Kageyama’s words. “I understand it now.”

They remain quiet for a beat - the warmth of their hands together – until Kageyama breaks it. 

“Sugawara-san.” 

“Call me Koushi. Please.” 

He thought Kageyama could not get any redder, but he was wrong.

“Koushi,” he says. It’s the world’s most wonderful sound.

“What.”

“Can I – can I ask you a question?”

After saying his name like that? Kageyama can ask all the questions. “Of course.”

“Can you – can you kiss me right?”

And it’s not what Koushi’s expecting – but then again, nothing about this goes like Koushi is expecting; not this confession in the room of an apartment miles away from where he lives, not this fierce affection inside his heart that makes all the pains and self-doubt seem miniscule in comparison.

The laughter bursts out of his lips as he looks at Kageyama, silent in anticipation – and, unlike before, this is a silence Koushi can comprehend. He runs a hand over Kageyama’s cheek and approaches his lips for a well-deserved kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I'm on Tumblr, at athousandblueshells


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